


Goodnight Dream

by AnonymousandTrying



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Derealization, Dreaming, sleeping dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:13:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousandTrying/pseuds/AnonymousandTrying
Summary: Tap. Tap. Tap.Perhaps everything unsettling becomes a sense of comfort sometimes.Tap. Tap. Tap.Perhaps this emptiness was comforting sometimes.Tap. Tap. Tap.Perhaps, I will stay here, alone, walking aimlessly, no care for anything or anyone. No worry, no emotion, no feeling, just a simple pair of shoes walking on nothing, going nowhere, for no reason.“Dream…?”
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Goodnight Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: Some derealization but nothing too incredibly heavy.

When was the last time I slept?

Was it an hour ago?

Yesterday?

Last week?

Right now?

The fuzzy almost light feeling that resides in my head floods through the entirety of my body. I keep walking, one foot in front of the other, the light taps of my shoes and the soft breaths I take too calm myself becoming the only thing that manages to echo through my mind. It’s cold here, it’s cold and damp, my hair is wet and dripping and I can’t seem to understand why. The idea of water becoming almost incomprehensible. I keep walking. Quiet yet loud clicks continue, yet I can no longer tell who or what is causing them. They reside more as a rhythm, a calm quiet tapping that keeps me grounded. There is so much yet so little that’s happening at the same time.

“One, two..One, two.”

The light whispers continue with each tap. The voice sounds familiar, so personal yet so distant. Understandable yet remaining incomprehensible. Where am I? I look around slowly and see nothing. I am nowhere. It’s all just white around me, nothing but me and the rhythmic tapping. It’s scary, horrifying even yet at the same time, it’s my comfort. Being trapped in my own head with no idea how or when I got here or how or when I will leave. This is the time I feel the most stable, the most connected with myself and yet this is the time I can’t seem to understand even the simplest of things.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Perhaps everything unsettling becomes a sense of comfort sometimes.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Perhaps this emptiness was comforting sometimes.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Perhaps, I will stay here, alone, walking aimlessly, no care for anything or anyone. No worry, no emotion, no feeling, just a simple pair of shoes walking on nothing, going nowhere, for no reason.

“Dream…?”

Dream gasps violently, his throat burning with sudden intake of air, his eyes feeling blurry and puffy. His chest rising and falling quickly, no presence of rhythm, just panic. The showers soft hum of water traveling through the pipes and pounding against him bringing him back slowly. His fogged green eyes making their way to his friend with ultimately no energy or sense of rush.

“Dream?” The eldest speaks again, his face painted with panic and his voice laced with worry.  
Dream sits there hazy, clothes once dry, now weighted and dripping, mind elsewhere, ‘unsalvageable’ he thinks.

“Dream, are you okay?” George leans down and reaches to shut off the shower head. The mild squeak and slowing of water leaving only sounds of light drips and shattering breaths.

“George.” His response came out as more of a statement than a question. Dream shakes his head, his golden hair falling over his eyes, water dripping slowly.

“What are you doing in here Dream?”

“Nothing really.” His responses remained short and monotoned.

“Dream c’mon you need to get out of there.”

The boy written with concern rolled up his sleeves and began assisting the taller out of the shower. The boy in front of him not fully there, his green eyes somehow devoid of meaning, his clothes, while not affected, lacking color, George decides to blame it on the water.

“I’m okay.”

“No you’re not Dream, let me help you.” George retorts instantly not wanting to leave his very out of it friend soaked and shivering on the shower floor.

“George.” Dream looked at the man in front of him with a cold gaze, there was nothing there, George knew Dream could get like this, void. He’s seen it many times before.

George ignores his friends tone of voice and slowly brings his hand and runs his fingers through Dreams hair in attempt to remove the dripping hair that blocked his vision. The boy under him did not move, did not speak, he just sat there staring down at his hands for no reason in particular, looking lost. George can't remember the first time this had happened. The first time Dream had in one way or another spiraled into his beloved 'nothingness'. It just happened one day. It happened and he had no clue what to do or how to stop it. He had gotten better at it though, he knew to just take care of Dream in the moment despite what he says. The blonde still sat there motionless, unfazed in a way. This was a normality. Another simple aspect to his life. "People have their struggles", he'd explain. "This is just mine, my struggle." And with that George gave a simple nod and it become nothing less then a routine for them both.

"Come on Dream, hold onto me little." George wrapped his arm around the front of Dream to make sure he could easily hold onto him. Cold, shaky hands slowly rose and landed on Georges forearm. The cold water remains on his hands making George flinch slightly but he recovers quickly, taking his other hand and placing it on Dreams back.

"Okay Dream, here we go."

And with that George lifted as much as he could, Dream trying his best to lift with his limited energy.

It ends up taking more then George would’ve liked. Hours passed from just trying to get Dream up and changed and into bed. Dream was more here now, he was more aware and attentive, but he could walk better now, he could voice some things though George could tell it was draining him quickly. He led the taller boy by the hand, slowly, to his own bedroom. Georges hand lightly pushing the painted white door open which was followed by a creek. The room was dark, the curtains that George had been told were green were closed with no intention of being pulled back. The bed was far from made up and clothes and trash littered the floor nearest the corners. George let out a soft sigh and stepped in, holding on tight to Dreams hand to make sure he was following.

“Okay Dream, just a little more, you can do it!” George looked back at the blonde and gave him a small smile pulling him along through his dark, messy room. Dream hummed a small quiet response that George decided was either okay or a thanks. The brit took a couple more steps then sat Dream down on his bed.  
“Thank you George.” His thanks not differing in tone from his other responses but George knew he meant it. Dream laid himself back and let George pull the blankets over him as he always had done before. Then he was off to sleep once again, soft breaths escaping his lips and his hair still wet but not dripping. George smiled lightly and let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. It was time George got to work, he had a room to clean and food to make for the sleeping man in front of him. With that goal in his head he got started but not before whispering a quick,

“Goodnight Dream.”

Dream woke up. The shower head blasting on him, his blonde hair darkened and soaked, still in his wet clothes, still quick unpractised breaths, and to his dismay, no George. He gathers himself slightly, looking around for the person he wants to see most. He moves his gaze to look at his hands, then to the water escaping the shower head.

‘Am I awake?’

Dream sits there still, waiting and waiting but there’s nothing. No small hands pushing his hair out of the way, no soft words to ground him, no warmness, no George. So he sat there for another hour or maybe another day or maybe another week, with nowhere to go and nothing to think. The only thing he knew was the cold water that hit him in the face and the tapping of the water that escaped the bath faucet.


End file.
